


Gravity

by CoconutRum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Will Graham, Cock Bondage, Cock Rings, Consensual Kink, Doctor/Patient, Enthusiastic Consent, Japanese Rope Bondage, Kinbaku, M/M, Rope Bondage, Shibari, The Ladder Scene (Hannibal), Top Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25698826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoconutRum/pseuds/CoconutRum
Summary: Short version: Hannibal ties Will to THE ladder and has his pervy way with him.Longer version:Hannibal, Will and Jack meet at Lecter's office to discuss a case.Hannibal insists the only way to demonstrate his hypothesis is to use Will as a living, breathing visual aid.He tells Will to remove his shirt, then ties Will to *The (famous) ladder* to show Jack his theory. Will is very turned on, and hopes no one notices as he is thoroughly ''studied'' by the good doctor. (*Ya know, for science!)Jack has to abruptly leave for the lab, leaving Will...still quite shirtless and bound... at Hannibal's mercy.He excuses himself with the words "I trust you'll have Will in bed at a reasonable hour."Hannibal doesn't disappoint. But instead of bed...well, there's a reason we all love that ladder ;)Shameless ropey goodness. Cock-rope for funzies! Conflicted Will...who not so secretly loves his demons. Snarky, clinical Hannibal.Cheers!Chapter 1 : Slow burn. No actual sex. Just hella tension.Chapter 2 : Blow jobs, cock rope, and butt sex. yay.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 36
Kudos: 244





	1. Strappado

**Author's Note:**

> The rope bondage in this fic is based on existing ties, but in no way represents all its steps or proper (and very REAL) safety aspects that should be in place. Do not attempt or use as a tutorial. All kink is consensual in this fic. I own nothing. 
> 
> Feedback welcome.

Jack put his hat on a hook at the door, over his coat, joining the other two men in Lecter’s vast office. The rain outside fogged the ceiling-high windows, leaving a chill in the air. Hannibal removed his jacket, draping it over his desk chair, and sauntered to the far wall to light a fire. 

“Thank you for the use of your study, Dr. Lecter,” Jack quipped, rummaging through his briefcase for his notes.

“It was the least I could do, Jack,” the doctor said brightly, “And please, call me Hannibal. I do believe we are past initial formalities in this company.” He eyed Will, who was staring out at the rain. Hugging his arms to himself, a quizzical look on his face. 

Hannibal manifested drinks, seemingly out of nowhere, setting a tray on the center table. Crawford graciously lifted a glass in silent thanks, before sipping it and grimacing at the smooth burn down his throat. The doctor did the same, gracefully seating himself across from Jack. His fine suit pants rising slightly, but fashionably, above his ankle as he crossed his long legs.

“With all the equipment we have in the lab, it doesn’t equate to your expertise, Hannibal.” Jack was always straight to business, but the doctor silently preened at the praise. “What we are looking at here is someone who is well versed in anatomy, narcotics, and possibly physics.”

Lecter remained stoic, barely blinking; indicating Jack continue. 

“It’s the blood coagulation, and positioning of the body that’s got us thrown through a loop.” He took another quick swig of his drink. 

Hannibal leaned back in his chair, his fist under his chin, one arm across his torso; thinking.

“Would you please elaborate on the source of your confusion, Jack. Perhaps with more detail, I may be of more assistance.” 

Crawford looked around, as though trying to fabricate a visual aid out of thin air. His eyes landed on Will.

“Graham,” Jack barked, sure the younger man was lost in some sort of impenetrable dreamscape. Will was startled out of his own thoughts, collected himself and walked at a clip over to his coworkers. 

“Nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Jack mumbled. He appreciated Will’s talents and dedication, but often wondered if a screw...or two was loose in that skull. 

Hannibal smirked, watching Will fidget with his glasses as he stepped over to Jack.  
Crawford rose from his seat, taking Graham by the arm, and leading him to the tall ladder of Hannibal’s impressive two-story library.  
“The victim was found suspended, bound to a fixed structure. The wrists and ankles were the main points of contact.” He gestured for Will to demonstrate.

A bit self conscious, Graham assumed an awkward position as best he could with his back against the ladder, given the information he had gathered of the crime scene. Jack approached, clearly uncomfortable with physical contact of his coworker. 

“Will, if you could...hinge a little at the waist…and twist?” Graham made an attempt. “Good, and now…” Jack motioned with his hand, “Lean your body inward and cross your wrists higher up...yeah...just like that.” 

Graham felt the wood of the rungs against the backs of his wrists, his breathing a bit labored with his torso bent as it was. Definitely a very unnatural position that would take some maneuvering. Even without a mirror though, he could tell it was off. Jack stepped back to assess further, tilting his head.

“I can’t get it quite right with Will having to hold himself there. The strain of the body’s own muscles and posture throw things askew.”

Lecter’s eyes sparkled, dangerously.

“If you’ll excuse me a moment, I think I can remedy the situation.”

Without waiting for a reply, he disappeared to an adjoining room, returning with a small box. He looked over to Will as he removed the contents.

“Graham, if you would please remove your shirt, and return to the position as best you can, please.”

Jack chuckled. Will gawked at both of them.  
“Is that really necessary? I mean, a body is a body…” he stopped short, seeing the doctor procuring multiple lengths of rope, a fountain pen and tape measure from the box. 

“You will do as I say.” Hannibal’s curtness bordered on aggression; but was masked with an irritating, arrogant boyish charm. 

Will shucked the shirt off, letting it fall crumpled on the floor, both men’s gazes on him. He felt frustrated and exposed. Like the kid on the playground chosen to be the victim of a prank or his lunch money stolen. Bristling a bit, he stretched out again along the ladder. 

He noticed Lecter watching him, the man’s face a bit...predatory? Hannibal’s eyes roved over the profiler’s pale skin, and Will saw his tongue subtly wet his lips. 

Graham shook his head and shivered a bit, clearing his mind, trying to focus.

Lecter stood up, striding past Jack, who let him by with a wide berth. The doctor tended to make a lot of people uneasy, even...or maybe especially...as he worked. The grace and elegance of his movements and explanations was disturbing. Perhaps because topics such as murder, evisceration, rape and decapitation weren’t considered synonymous with Hannibal’s overly eloquent vocabulary and methods, and non-chalant verbal cadence. There was a detachment to him which was perfectly paired with an equally pinpointed focus. An enigma.

Hannibal approached Will, slowly uncoiling a hank of rope. A grin played on his features.

“Turn around,” Graham obeyed, and felt Lecter pressing and binding the heels of his hands together behind his back. Another rope was wound around his arms, just above his elbows, leaving him in an awkward hunched position. 

As Lecter worked, Will felt his senses zero in on the doctor’s fingertips testing the rope tension, checking circulation points, and ghosting his palms over the expanse of his back. He inhaled deeply, smelling the familiar aftershave the doctor favored so much. His own skin prickling at the proximity of the older man; his nerves on fire as his body savored the small touches.

His breath hitched as he felt Hannibal’s large, warm hands brace his arms, turning him round to face Jack. Both men stared as Will tried to maintain a look of indifference. 

Suddenly, the doctor gave a gentle tug to the elbow wraps, wrenching Will’s arms upward behind him, forcing him to instinctually hinge forward at the waist.

“Ah!” Lecter proclaimed; as though the answer was obvious to everyone. “Just as I suspected. Will, please stand in front of the ladder, placing your hands on the fourth wrung.”

Jack stood back, merely observing without comment.

Graham felt like a trussed turkey, but begrudgingly pressed his back to the ladder again, and attempted to do as instructed. Seeing him struggling, Hannibal placed a hand to Will’s bare chest, pressing upward, and the other to Will’s arms, helping guide him into place.

Lecter held his palm flat to the younger man’s sternum, waiting for him to settle; silently pleased to notice the profiler’s elevated heart rate fluttering under his fingers.  
The touch was so intimate, and Graham felt a blush creeping into his cheeks; suddenly fascinated with the patterned rug at his feet. 

Satisfied with the positioning, the doctor continued, and secured Will’s wrists to the ladder with another coil of rope.

“Good. Now Will, please spread your legs.”

Jack choked on his drink, chuckling.

“What?!” Graham spluttered, mortified at his lack of rebuttal; simultaneously trying to banish the new, unexpected heat pooling in his belly.

Hannibal crouched at Will’s feet, wisps of hair falling into his eyes. Nose nearly level with Will’s crotch, he tied the smaller man’s ankle to the foot of the ladder, followed neatly by the other. 

Before standing, he gave Will’s outer thigh a subtle squeeze, gazing up through disheveled bangs, leering. Graham felt his cock twitch against his pants and he fought to think about something abysmal to snap his mind back to the task at hand. Even though his brain had mixed messages on what that was exactly.

“You good, Graham?” Jack teased, “Thought I may have had to perform CPR on you there for a moment.”

Will shot him a death glare.

“Gentlemen,” Hannibal’s voice was playful, yet somber as he commanded attention. “What we are looking at here is a medieval torture scenario. Which...coincidentally is also a position in Japanese rope bondage or, Kinbaku.” The man laughed to himself; his side flush with Graham’s as he reached for the young man’s arms again.

“Specifically,” he raised Will’s arms behind again, this time letting the smaller man fall forward instead of catching him. 

“Strappado.” Hannibal stated, gesturing to the new position of Will’s body as though everyone knew what the term meant. At the room’s silence, the doctor continued elaborating.

“The hands are bound to each other, facing inward behind one’s back, and a series of ties are added, going upwards.” He motioned to the elbow wraps. 

“Sometimes, the arms are forcefully wrenched together, elbow to elbow, nearly all the way up to the shoulders. Traditionally, the accused is suspended from his wrists, here.” Lecter twisted the rope binding Will’s wrists to the ladder. Graham yelped as the rope bit into his flesh. His weight continued to shift forward. His back arched and his biceps fought to hold him upright.

“As Will here is graciously demonstrating,” the doctor suppressed a snicker, “Gravity pulls at the chest and hips, causing the back to arch backwards with the abdomen coming down and forward...eventually hyper extending the shoulders.” 

Hannibal stood in front of Will, placing his hands on either side of the man’s hips. Will’s cock bobbed nervously and he prayed it wasn’t noticeable as Lecter slowly pulled Graham’s pelvis forward towards his own. The profiler tilted his head back, mentally damning the ceiling for being blank with nothing to distract him. The tall man held him here, arched like a bow, gently pinching the soft flesh above of Will’s hips.

Graham felt his abdomen contract and his knee jerked out reflexively.  
Hannibal locked eyes with him, emitting a breathy laugh before turning back to Crawford.

“Your missing component, Jack,” the doctor let go of Will completely, “was gravity.”

Will’s muscles were screaming and he felt a sheen of sweat forming on his back as his body surrendered, his back bending impossibly further; his shoulders burning, gave in to the strain and went limp. He felt his arms would be pulled from their sockets.

“As you can see, the musculature of the deltoids, pectorals and erector spinae would be the most compromised, followed by the rectus femoris, rectus abdominis and iliopsoas.”

Before Hannibal could continue the annoyingly specific anatomy lesson, Will piped up.  
“Dr. Lecter, as enlightening as this is to be a living, breathing, visual aid...I can’t stay like this much longer.” Will managed.

Hannibal was positively beaming. 

“Which proves my next point, Will. Thank you for the pivot.” He practically pranced over to Graham, positioning himself behind him, placing one arm around Will’s chest, another around his lower torso. The two points of contact gradually pulled the man back upright. 

The doctor was nearly wedged between Graham and the ladder, but he held him there in a locked embrace, allowing Will’s blood-flow to reacclimate itself in a standing position.   
Hannibal bent his head forward, inhaling the scent of Will’s hair and neck; Will could feel Lecter’s well muscled chest rising and falling against him. The heat in his belly radiated.

“Did you just *smell* me?” Will asked. 

Hannibal’s eyes slitted open, easing his grip on the younger man.   
“I did, “ he said with no shame whatsoever, “You really must change your aftershave. It smells like something with a ship on the bottle.”

“Ahem…” Jack coughed abruptly, clearly uncomfortable with ….whatever was going on.

Certain Will was stable enough to stand, Lecter joined Jack, continuing his assessment.

“Yes. This particular torture device was used in the primarily in the 16th century. Being held in this position for a criminally *prolonged* amount of time; the resulting lack of blood flow to the extremities, and gravitational pull on the hips; sometimes with added weight to the body... would result in that pattern of post mortem coagulation you found in your victim. The breaks in the muscle striations…” 

He stood up, advancing on Will, holding the fountain pen, drawing a series of lines on his shoulders, abdomen and ankles. The nib tickled mercilessly on Will’s skin, raising goosebumps on his flesh. 

“Here, here and here…” He quickly measured the distances between them; nimble fingers ghosting Will’s bare skin, “Are congruent with the dislocation of the shoulders as well.” 

Graham was dizzy. His head swam as he processed the fact that Hannibal had literally just used him as a demonstration piece...with an audience. He felt his cock stirring at the notion of being Lecter’s personal prop. 

A buzzing sound broke him out of his thoughts.

“I’m so sorry, gentlemen,” Jack’s voice barked through Will’s consciousness, “It seems I’m needed back at the lab. ” He waggled his buzzing phone in the air. “Dr. Lecter, thank you for your assistance. I trust you to have Will in bed at a reasonable hour?” 

He winked at Hannibal, then nodded to Will, who shot him another scowl as Jack clicked the door shut behind him.

Hannibal silently sauntered towards the profiler, enjoying the possibilities of the scene before him. Will shifted in his bonds, looking upward to see if he could wriggle his wrists free.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Hannibal was suddenly standing face to face with Graham. “Wouldn’t want to damage the joints,” he stated, making no effort to help.

“Then untie me. You figured it out.” Graham rolled his shoulders, leaning backward as Lecter inched closer. 

“No.” His face was inches from Will’s, watching the young man’s breathing quicken as he fidgeted.

Graham was at a loss for words. Hannibal was appraising him like an animal for slaughter. Will felt the older man run a hand over his bound arms, down his side. His cock, twitching. Hannibal glanced down at the profiler’s hips, his fingers trailing along his waistband.

“Something on your mind, Will?”


	2. Discipline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Jack has left Hannibal to his own devices, with Will tied to the infamous ladder...Hannibal has his lovely way with Will. And Will loves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All kink is consensual. I own nothing.
> 
> All ties in this fic are based on real ones, but are not meant to be tutorials. Practice safe, consensual kink, people.

Will’s mouth went dry as the doctor’s fingers brushed back up his ribcage yet again, continuing upward to cradle his neck. 

“Come now, Will,” Hannibal’s voice was low and dangerous. “I’ve been reading your body language all afternoon.” He pinched the shell of Graham’s ear, earning him a hiss.

The brunette’s blush was unmistakable this time as he tilted his head, away from Lecter’s prying fingers. 

“This is wrong,” Will’s words came out in a whisper, his eyes fluttering shut in frustration as the doctor stepped back, breaking all physical contact.

“How is this wrong?” Hannibal knew his clipped accent made the question sound even worse on multiple levels. He took two steps towards the young man, letting his body hover over him, just close enough to feel his body heat, but not actually touching him.

Will opened his eyes and grit his teeth. 

“You’re manipulating me,” He glared at the doctor, making an effort to look more in control than he actually was. 

Lecter stared at him. Studying him. Taking mental notes of his prey.

Then, as if to foil all potential victory, Will’s cock gave yet another insistent twitch, and he let go a sigh of resentment. 

Hannibal continued to study the young man, drinking in the spasms, quivers and involuntary shudders his mere presence and scrutiny brought out of him.

“You’re loving this.” The doctor’s lips curled upward as he spoke.

Graham cursed every fiber of himself because he knew, not even ‘deep down,’ more like....right at the surface of his skin, that the man was right. He was more than right! He was facilitating a fantasy and Will didn’t have, nor did he want, the guts to deny or stop it!

“Will, as a medical professional, my primary obligation, under oath, is to ‘Do No Harm.’ “ He brushed the hair from the young man’s face. “It would be...unprofessional...for me to let a patient leave...unattended or in pain.” 

His breath was warm on Will’s face, pupils blown black with lust. Silently, Will begged him...mentally pleaded with his captor to be his undoing.

After what felt like ages, Hannibal closed the distance between them, crushing Will’s lips to his. 

The brunette’s mind disintegrated into shards of fire, opening his mouth to Hannibal’s tongue, letting the man taste him. He no longer cared about right and wrong; he did that enough for work; for society; for his sanity. The man was so sick of walking that fine line of professionalism and etiquette. Having to fit a mold for the sake of other people. To constantly live in his mind, and alter his behavior for the sake of others.

Hannibal nipped at his jaw, bringing him back to the present.

“Will, tell me you want this,” his voice husky, words crisp. “Tell me…*how long*...you’ve wanted this.” His hands stroked up Graham’s lean arms as he suckled the man’s collarbone.

Will felt his brain tip into the void. His hands scrambled for purchase against the ladder. He wanted so desperately to touch the man holding him hostage. To claw, thrash and taste him.

“Since you told me who you really were...” He groaned, arching his back as Hannibal ground his pelvis against him. “Since you unearthed a discarded, shameful piece of my mind and told me to use it.” Lecter bit down on his shoulder. “Since you taught me what it was like to be free…”

Hannibal growled and began deftly working at Will’s fly. Locking eyes with his captive, the taller man slowly knelt; peeling off layers, freeing the younger man’s cock. Then, gazing upward, he took Will, fully into his mouth.

Will’s body shivered at the heat. He watched in awe as Hannibal sucked him down, whirled his serpentine tongue and flicked at his slit. 

How was this possible? Will’s body arched deeper into Hannibal’s mouth as he considered the seemingly reversed roles. The authoritative, dangerous man...kneeling...at *his* feet! The contradiction of his psychiatrist *treating* him from a physically submissive position...his own body so turned on at its own restraints in order to willingly be *used* by this man...all of the deliciously complicated thoughts sent electricity straight to his dick.

Hannibal reached a hand upward, hooking two fingers in Graham’s mouth; Will sucked them greedily between his lips, whining in frustration when they were removed. 

Hannibal was moving faster on him now. A wet finger pressing into his hole.

Lecter felt the young man’s legs began to quiver, deeply inhaling his musky scent. Probing deeper, he let Will’s cock go with a pleasing ‘pop,’ leaving the young man writhing. The doctor just watched him. The rippling of his wiry muscles, the sheen of sweat across his chest, the effort his body exuded to stand upright. 

Smiling up at Will, a roguish look on his face, Hannibal crooked a finger within the man.

Will gasped and tried to twist and curl his body inward; the bonds holding. His skin burning, vision blurred and breath coming in short bursts, he shook as Hannibal toyed with him. Never quite tipping him over the edge, but just enough to torment him beyond coherent speech.  
His head was swimming. 

“Please…” He moaned, rocking his hips. Grimacing as he felt the hand removed from his entrance.

Hannibal wrapped a warm hand around Will’s base, bringing his other hand to the ropes at his ankle, slowly untying them. 

“Please...what?” He sneered, undoing the other leg. His hand gripped tightly, unwavering as Will awkwardly stepped out of his pants. 

“Let me…” Will was teetering on the edge, lost for words. “Let me…I need to…”

The doctor took a length of rope he had undone, and brushed it along the underside of Will’s swollen cock. A bead of pre-cum leaking down the back of his hand. 

“Mmmh….” Hannibal chuckled to himself. “Not until I say so, dear boy.” He began wrapping the rope around the root of Will’s cock. “I intend to be very...thorough...during this particular session.”

Will nearly sobbed. The rope was now being wound around his balls, and tied off with a simple slipknot. His ankles now free, his body instinctively bent at the knees, his hips rocking into the friction.

Pleased with his work, Hannibal admired his make-shift cock-ring, giving it a gentle twist.

“Ungh!! “ Will gasped, his body lurching forward and up onto the balls of his feet. 

“Careful, Will.” Lecter steadied him. “Wouldn’t want to compromise that delicate...and if I may say, succulent flesh.” He placed a hand to Will’s ass, licking a stipe up his chest, meeting him in another feral kiss.

Will’s nerves were short circuiting. The rope prickled deliciously on his cock, threateningly abrasive and wildly stimulating. The ache was maddening.

Laving at the young man’s neck, Hannibal slowly unbuttoned his own shirt, letting it fall open. Will whimpered at the chiseled planes of the doctor’s chest as the man undid his pants. 

The doctor procured a small vial from the box on the floor, slicking himself with its contents.   
Graham’s throat went dry at the sight. Hannibal’s cock was mouthwatering; wider at the tip than the base, and the length was slightly intimidating. 

Lecter pressed the head of his cock against Will’s clenched entrance, rocking gently. He held himself there, barely sheathed, letting the brunette adjust. 

“Wrap your legs around me, Will,” he whispered, clearly fighting for control. Will obeyed, keening as the man’s dick pierce him deeper. The two men groaned. 

The doctor carefully released Will’s hands from the ladder, leaving them bound at the wrists, and placed them over his head, around the back of his neck. His forearms on Hannibal’s shoulders.

Relief surged through the young man’s body, and he bowed his head, pressing it to the older man’s brow.

Bracing himself against the ladder, Hannibal closed his eyes and thrust upward.

Will cried out again, his hands pulling Hannibal in. His legs were slick with sweat, his arms regaining strength after the prolonged suspension. The rung of the ladder gave him just enough of a ledge to use for balance as it bit into his skin.

Lecter felt Graham’s feet digging into his back, and the exquisite heat of his throbbing channel. He was enveloped so completely and began picking up speed. 

There was a rough give and take of Will’s body as he rode Hannibal’s cock; clutching him then being thrown backwards, pressed into the solid frame of the ladder, and pulling himself back in and on to his captor. 

The doctor’s hips were snapping, his white shirt translucent with sweat, the fabric clinging to his skin. 

Graham was shuddering and pleading with every stroke now. His cock raging in agony just as he thought he would find release, only to be denied and in more magnificent, nourishing pain.

Hannibal felt Will’s body hovering on the brink. His own mind nearly mad with anticipation. Slowing his thrusts, he put one hand to Will’s cock, and pulled gently at the rope’s end.

Will froze.  
Both men trembled.

Hannibal let the rope drag against Will’s flesh, and began to resume his slow, torturous thrusts.  
Graham winced as he felt the raw fibers trail across his dick. The teeth of the rope stinging mercilessly as more blood flooded his length; now oversensitized. 

Lecter dropped the rope to the floor, and watched his captive; inhaling his scent, feeling the pull of his inner walls, the strength of his legs around him. 

“Touch yourself, Will.” Hannibal gasped, fighting for breath, his abdomen clenched and coiled.

Graham lifted his hands from Lecter’s shoulders, taking care to not lose his balance or chafe himself. 

He grasped his cock, positively whining at his own grip. He bit his lip, letting himself squeeze through his tightened fist, the head purple and swollen.

“Slowly…” Hannibal warned, plunging deeper; faster.

Will obeyed, clenching his teeth and gasping as he felt the man spasming beneath him.

The doctor watched as Will’s mind and body fought each other for dominance. His own hips relentlessly slamming into the supple body in his grasp. He held his breath, white light flashing across his vision, suddenly euphoric.

Will fought to breathe as Hannibal spilled himself deep within his velvet walls; the younger man nearly passing out. 

Hannibal’s thrusts slowed, riding his aftershocks, gently pulsating on Will’s prostate, sending flickers of neon electricity coursing through his body. Graham’s eyes were clenched shut, his mouth hanging open, neck arched.

“Come for me, Will…” 

Graham took no chance in having to be told twice and began pumping himself furiously. Rutting into his fist, the friction blissfully painful. His lungs were on fire. 

The doctor yanked the man’s head back by the scruff of his neck, clamping his teeth down on a hardened nipple, flicking at it with his tongue.

Will’s body convulsed; his legs contracting around Lecter’s waist; Hannibal devouring his scream as he came hot and hard across his own chest. His mind went blank.

In a deep haze, Graham registered Hannibal’s hands picking him up and carrying him over to the chaise lounge, usually used during patient sessions. He felt the doctor unbind his wrists and check for proper circulation. 

The doctor watched the man regain focus, and he gestured to a glass of water and a hand towel on the side table next to him. 

Will slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings.

Hannibal was seated in his chair, across from him; shirt open, still sticking to him. He sipped a glass of white wine, eyes sparking at Will. 

Graham gently cleaned himself off and took a swig of water, eyeing the doctor.

“Jack can’t know about....” His face looked slightly panicked. 

Hannibal chuckled “Doctor-patient confidentiality, Will.” 

“Good.” The young man exhaled, setting the towel aside. 

The two men sat in silence for a few moments, Will fidgeted with his glasses.

He took a deep, quenching breath, blushing. “Same time next week?”

Delighted, Hannibal licked his lips, marking the appointment in his calendar.


End file.
